Happiness
by hrselovr101
Summary: "Your problem is that you want everyone else to be happy. But what about you, Sylvie? When do you get to be happy? When does your happiness matter?" Post Season 8 fall finale. Casey and Brett.


**Author's Note: **Haven't watched much of Chicago Fire and just started religiously watching this season (season 8). I have loved Casey and Brett throughout this season and some of last, and I've been rooting for them for a while now. This is my take on what I want to happen with their relationship in the new year and the ramifications of Gabby's visit and Dawsey's night together. Sorry if characters seem out of character; I'm still getting into the swing of writing these two. Hopefully these two will get together but, for now, enjoy!

...

"Hey, Captain, you going to pour yourself some coffee or...?" Emily Foster asked Casey with a quirked eyebrow. She chuckled under her breath to herself before gently bumping Casey's shoulder with her own, who hadn't heard one beat that had escaped her mouth.

"Captain? Casey? Matt?" Foster tried again, this time a little more adamant. "You know, some of us actually pour coffee to drink it rather than stand over a freshly brewed pot making eyes at someone across the room."

She knew her sarcastic tone could be interpreted the wrong way by the captain of Firehouse 51, but with her observation skills, she assumed Casey was too distracted by one blonde-haired paramedic to even take notice of her teasing (only kind of) tone.

"What?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at Foster who simply nodded her head at the empty coffee mug in Casey's hand and the, very, full pot of coffee that was right in front of him. "Oh, right, I was getting to that," he lied, rolling his eyes, brushing her off.

"Mm, sure you were."

"What, I was." Casey internally cringed at his response. He sounded like a five-year-old.

To prove his point, he picked up the pot, poured himself a generous portion of the nearly black liquid, set the pot back down, and feigned a toast in Foster's direction.

"See, coffee."

He then took a sip and let the warm liquid overcome his taste buds, hoping it would cure the warm sensation he felt from seeing Brett across the room.

"You know, it's none of my business, but maybe you should just talk to her," Foster replied, helping herself to a generous dose as well. Unlike Casey, who took it black, Foster reached over him to grab the sugar before sprinkling a handful into her mug.

Casey stilled, taking a second to let Foster's words hit him, until he turned in her direction.

"Talk to who?" he asked, already fully aware of who Foster was referring to.

"Wow, for someone who thinks quickly on his feet and makes in the moment life-or-death calls, your thinking when it comes to the opposite gender could sure use some work, Captain."

Casey gave Foster a once over, seeming offended, but then softened his glance, and was that a smile she saw? "What, it's true," she quipped.

Casey sighed and pivoted so his back was leaning against the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest, allowing for his CFD jacket to tighten in all the right places. Foster subtly looked Casey up and down and mentally noted that she couldn't blame Brett; Matt Casey was one of the most attractive men she knew. With his piercing blue eyes that hid so much and his sandy, short-cropped blonde hair, he was a lady's man. And every woman he interacted with knew it. Including Brett. Who, at the moment, was being too damn stubborn about her feelings for him. Yet, thinking about Casey in any sort of romantic light made Foster literally shiver. She could _never_. Would never. But as she thought about her friend and the captain, she smiled. Now she _could _relish the thought of them together.

Emily was pulled from her thoughts when Casey began to talk, rather softly. It was rare for him to open up about his feelings, especially to her, so the minute he started to do so, Emily focused all of her attention on his words.

"Ever since the gala, there hasn't really been a moment where I've been able to talk to her. Sure, we interact on calls, but once the craziness dies down and we return back at the station, she avoids me."

Foster observed Casey as he finished talking. His brows furrowed and he seemed frustrated. Or maybe reflective. He pinched his lips together, as though he was in deep thought as to why Brett was, in fact, avoiding him, before bringing the cup of coffee, once again, up to his mouth to take a sip.

"Did I do something?"

At his question, Emily, quite literally, laughed out loud, and Casey abruptly turned his head to face her.

"You," Foster started, pointing a finger straight at Casey's chest, "men can be so oblivious sometimes. Do _you_ think you did something?"

Casey shrugged, feeling slightly defeated and confused as hell. When he didn't give Foster the response she was looking for, hoping for, she helped him out. She felt sorry for the guy. He couldn't see what was right in front of him. Damn men.

"Lemme help you out here, Captain. When you asked Sylvie if you should go to the gala with Gabby..."

"She told me to," Casey finished. Emily shot him a look, which Casey, surprisingly, read correctly and let her continue talking.

"Right, she told you to, which means she practically gave you permission to waltz back into Gabby's arms, even though she's been harboring feelings for you for months. C'mon, Matt, are you telling me you can't see that she feels something for you? Talk about putting our fires, sir; the one that's been burning between you two has been heating up for _months_ and maybe she felt like that night, of the gala, it had finally been put out."

Casey let her words sink in and sighed. He brushed a hand through his hair before realizing there wasn't much hair to brush to begin with. Jesus, how was he supposed to know? Or maybe he did. Maybe a small part of him did know but thought nothing of it. He flashed back to the moment he saw Kyle propose to Sylvie. Something in his heart sank. Something inside of him felt as though it had been stabbed. He knew in-house romances were off limits, but he couldn't help the way he felt when he was around her. Sylvie brought out something in him, something that had been absent for a long time. They could laugh together, joke around, have fun, and hell, they were practically cut from the same cloth. Yet, as soon as Gabby had returned, just seeing her had knocked him off his axis, and it was like the last six years of their relationship had come flooding back. He had gotten tunnel vision and it was hard for him to see anyone else around him besides his former flame. Maybe even true love. But she had left, again. And he knew she was going to. He still didn't know how he felt about that and told himself he may never know, but at the least, he had to move on. Or try to.

"Why would she do something like that? he asked, absentmindedly tracing the rim of the coffee mug. Emily sighed and met Casey's gaze.

"Don't you know Sylvie at all? She's the type of person who would, and always will, put others' happiness before her own," Foster finished.

She then chugged the remaining liquid that was left in her mug before placing it in the aluminum sink. She playfully punched Casey's shoulder, indicating a "good luck, mate," before walking off towards Brett and Kidd.

Matt turned back around, placing his own mug in the sink, and rested his elbows on the counter, observing the three women that were currently seated only a couple of feet away from him. He closed his eyes letting his conversation with Foster really resonate. There was once a time when Casey's answer to Foster's question would have been "yes." Yes, he did know Sylvie. He felt as if he knew her quite well. Their friendship had been rock solid for a while. He trusted her. He knew he could confide in her when things got hard. But since Gabby's visit, things had been off between the two of them. Sure, they still worked calls together, but the little glances and the playful banter at Molly's after shifts had disappeared. He told himself he didn't miss it, that even thinking about Brett in that way was wrong—they worked together—but the more he watched her smile at what Kidd had just said and laugh when Foster whispered something in her ear, he couldn't help but feel as though _he _wanted to be the one to make her do those things; and that scared him even more than running into a burning building.

…

The wedding had been beautiful, and she had made sure to pack an extra pack of to-go Kleenex. Foster, on numerous occasions, had made fun of her for the amount of times tears escaped her eyes. Yes, she had cried when Chloe walked down the aisle. When they exchanged wedding vows. When Cruz almost dropped Chloe's ring because he was so nervous. And when they had kissed each other like it was just the two of them in the room, solidifying a lifelong commitment to love one another, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad. As she sat there watching her friend and fellow roommate give himself away to the woman of his dreams, she couldn't help but feel an enormous pang of longing within her own stomach, her own heart. She wanted what Cruz and Chloe now had. She wanted a happily ever after. A house of her own. A family. A dog. A life with someone who brought her the same amount of happiness that Cruz clearly brought Chloe. She thought she could have that with Kyle which is why she had said yes to his proposal. But maybe, all along, she knew deep down saying yes to him was just her way of saying no to someone else. It was her way of avoiding the deepening feelings she had for Casey. The feelings that kept her awake at night, that made sleepless nights far too common, and that made her heart literally break when Gabby returned. As Cruz and Chloe exited the church, she sniffed again, another tear slowly falling down her cheek.

"Girl, the wedding's over, and you're _still _crying," Emily whispered in her ear. No natter the occasion, Emily always found a way to make Sylvie feel better. She looped her arm through Emily's and leaned her head on her friend's shoulder.

"I know," she said through multiple sniffs and an eye dab or two, "just seeing them so happy has made me think about my own two _failed _engagements and lack of romance life." Emily ran her hand over Sylvie's arm in an attempt to provide comfort.

"I know, babe. It must be hard."

Sylvie lifted her head from Foster's shoulder and brushed a piece of escaped hair back behind her ear. She smiled but Emily could tell that her smile didn't reach her eyes.

"But they're happy. Which makes me happy."

"Which is exactly your problem," Foster replied, catching Brett off guard.

"What?"

"Your problem is that you want everyone _else _to be happy. But what about you, Sylvie? When do _you_ get to be happy? When does your happiness matter?"

Sylvie pondered Emily's words briefly and met her friend's gaze.

"I am happy."

"Bullshit." Emily wasn't afraid to call her friend out and Sylvie knew she would and probably expected it too. Brett heaved in a deep sigh and adjusted her position on the church pew so that she was better facing Foster.

"Em, what do you want me to say? That it's actually really hard to be here because seeing what Cruz and Chloe have is a reminder of all that I said no to? Is a glimpse of what I could have had but chosen not to? Is what I want, _so badly_, but know I'll never have because the only man I want to have it with has already given his heart away to someone else?"

Emily smirked and let Brett breathe before she replied,

"Well, that's a start." She had a teasing glimmer in her eye and it took all of Brett's self-control to not punch her best friend in the shoulder.

…

"I'll take a glass of Moscato, please."

She directed her order to the bartender behind the counter who nodded in acknowledgment before reaching for a wine glass. He set it in front of her and Sylvie watched as the translucent liquid filled up the glass. The reception had been going on for over an hour and a half and Sylvie's feet were tired and hurt. She had ditched her heels, deciding to carry them inside, and set them in the high-top seat next to her. As she sipped her wine, she glanced over at her shoulder and observed her 51 gang enjoying themselves on the dance floor. Everyone seemed so happy. Smiling. Dancing. Cheering. A wedding was something they all needed after the past few months they had had. She spotted everyone but…

"Drinking alone?" Just his voice made the hairs on her neck stand and the goosebumps on her arm appear. How was it that his voice alone made Sylvie feel all sorts of things, types of things that she shouldn't be feeling because _they worked together _for crying out loud. And because he already belonged to someone else…who wasn't here, Brett reminded herself. She shook her head before turning further to meet Casey's gaze and smiled at him softly.

"You know me, life of the party," she replied, waving her now half-empty wine glass towards his chest. Casey chuckled and walked towards her, shooting her a questioning glance when he saw her shoes occupied the seat he wanted.

"They make a fine date," she casually answered, grabbing her heels' straps and dropping them to the floor beneath her pedicured toes. Casey slipped off his jacket, adjusted his tie, and took a seat next to Brett, whose breath seemed to have been caught in her throat the moment Casey's jacket came off. _Good lord. _This was going to be so much harder for her than she thought. The entire reason why she had been avoiding Casey all these weeks was because of _exactly this. _The feeling she got when he was around. The butterflies that fluttered in her stomach when she admired his side profile, when she smelled his cologne, when she could practically reach out and brush a hand to his cheek, in an attempt to imagine what his skin felt like. _Get a grip, Brett. ASAP. _She was too occupied by her own thoughts to hear what Casey had just asked her, so he tried again.

"Beautiful wedding, huh?"

He glanced at her and Sylvie noticed for the first time just how blue and vibrant his eyes were. She could get lost in them for days. She wanted to get lost in them all the time but knew better. Knew better than to pursue a man whom, not long ago, had reconnected with his true love and whom she worked with. She didn't want to interfere with his happiness, because wasn't he already happy? He and Gabby had rekindled their romance, the romance that had never really ended, and the romance that Sylvie had a front-row seat to for the past six years. Foster's words suddenly invaded her mind, "when do _you _get to be happy?" _When I learn to get a grip on my feelings _she thought to herself. Because she was taking too long to acknowledge Casey's question, he reached a hand over to her and brushed her arm.

"Brett? Are you okay?" he asked with concern in her eye. She shook her head of all _romantic _thoughts of Casey and nodded vigorously.

"Yes. Sorry, just got lost in my thoughts," she rambled, laughing nervously. Sylvie mentally smacked herself. Casey always did that to her, made her so damn nervous that she sounded like an idiot whenever she was around him, speaking too fast and not making much sense. "What did you say?"

Casey smiled once again, enjoying finally being in Brett's presence.

"It was a beautiful wedding, wasn't it?"

She nodded and finished the remaining liquid in her glass before setting it down on the bar's marble surface.

"It really was. And I'm so happy for Cruz. After losing Otis, he really deserved to find somebody like Chloe."

"I never really saw someone like Cruz ever settling down, but if he can, we all can, right?"

"I suppose so," Brett responded, noticing Casey had finished his beer and was making moves to stand. "Have you ever thought about it?" he asked Brett nonchalantly reaching for his jacket and slipping it over his shoulders.

Brett, on the other hand, was caught off guard by Casey's question and had no idea how to respond. Should she be honest with him and tell him, "yes?" Should she lie and say "no" in the hopes that Casey wouldn't see through her denial? She decided to go with the former.

"Honestly, yes," she answered quietly, glancing down at her empty wine glass and standing herself. She maneuvered her feet until she was able to slip into her heels and then moved her gaze so that it met Casey's intense eyes, who were focused only on her. Suddenly it became hard for her to breath, and, was it getting warmer? Casey had moved distinctly closer to her, pinning Brett between the counter and his body. She gasped and tried to regain her composure but failed miserably because her heart was beating so damn fast. Casey leaned down and whispered in her ear,

"Dance with me."

She lost all ability to speak but nodded her head and let Casey lead her onto the dance floor. The music playing had transitioned from upbeat to a slower, relaxed, more romantic tune, and couples were quickly coming together to enjoy the slower melody. Casey found a spot towards the middle of the dance floor and wrapped his arms around Brett's waist. Finally having time to get her feelings, and common sense, in check, Brett reciprocated his gesture and brought her arms to rest around Casey's neck. Their bodies moved slowly, swiftly, to the music, and she tried as hard as she could to not enjoy dancing with Casey. Too bad for her. Her body didn't get the memo and it, instead, gave into moving in synch with Casey's body, swaying as his swayed.

"So why haven't you?" he asked her just as Sylvie was about to close her eyes. She re-opened them, focusing them on the man before her. The man who tried so hard to remain strong for his firehouse but who had also seen and experienced so much hurt and trauma of his own. She felt her feelings growing for him even more at that moment and questioned if this dance was really a good idea. Her heart said no but her feet said yes because they didn't start making moves in the opposite direction away from Casey. She stayed put and ran her hand along Casey's neck, his soft skin meeting her own.

"Haven't what?" she asked, already knowing the direction in which their conversation was about to head. Casey gave her a look that told her he knew that she knew what he meant and she gave in and sighed.

"Yes, I've thought about it. I've thought about settling down a lot. After ending things with Kyle though, I just felt like it wasn't in the cards for me," she admitted. Casey kept the pace and continued swaying with her, his grip never loosening around her waist. Instead, he looked her square in the eye and replied in the most tender voice,

"You deserve everything you'd ever want and so much more." In the moment, Sylvie didn't care that they weren't the only two dancing because it sure felt like it was just the two of them. How was Matt able to have such an intense effect on her? One that made her forget about everything going on in her life and everyone around her? How was he able to read her mind and touch her heart in ways no one else could?

"But what if what I want is something I can't have?" she whispered feeling incredibly vulnerable and a bit nervous as to how Casey would interpret her question.

"And what is it that you want?" he questioned seeming to not be phased by Brett's admission.

"Not what…who," she revealed. Casey suddenly stopped dancing and looked down at the beautiful woman in his arms who had been through so much romantic turmoil and deserved happiness. A happiness that he felt he could provide her with. Or wanted to at least explore.

"What makes you think you can't have this person?"

"Because he gave his heart away to someone else and won't ever truly be happy with another person who isn't her."

Casey's heart broke at hearing Brett's words because, this time, he knew exactly who she was referring to. Emily would be so proud. Something told him to kiss her. To comfort Brett with a kiss that said maybe she was right but that he wanted to try to find happiness with someone else. With someone who deserved it but always prolonged her own happiness for the sake of others'. And something must have registered with Casey's mind and body because the next thing he knew, he was bringing his hands up to frame Brett's face and leaning in for a kiss…a kiss that she met with her warm lips and, finally, dare he say, a happy heart.


End file.
